Kisses in the Dark
by Alexandria de Loraine
Summary: A short & sweet one-shot romance. Hermione x Remus, non-canon for later books. Please read & review.


Hello again everyone. I've been feeling inspired lately, so I wanted to share a little one-shot romance piece about Remus & Hermione. Like most of my stories this fic is non-canon with regard to the final books of the HP series. This one is pretty short and sweet, I think, so I look forward to hearing what you all think. Enjoy!

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It had been four years, but he could still remember the fragrance of her hair and the faint taste of champagne on her lips when he'd kissed her.

He'd been watching her from across the room for most of the night, mostly keeping to himself. Without even Sirius to keep him company, it was a wonder Remus had turned up at the Weasley's Yule party at all. Of course, the presence of one Hermione Granger probably had more to do with his being there than he would have liked to admit.

They'd been at a similar party four years ago, the night of that kiss he could never forget. Voldemort had been dead only a few weeks, and what had started out as a celebratory evening among the survivors, held at the Three Broomsticks, moved to the Leaky Cauldron as the night drew on. Finally, at around two in the morning, Hermione and Remus had decided that they were done trying to keep up with Harry, Ron and Ginny; the two of them had chosen to floo back to the House of Black on Grimmauld Place, where they'd been staying since the end of the war.

Probably because they'd each had a bit too much to drink, they had become entangled together in that dark, quiet kitchen. She had been warm and soft in his arms, he remembered that too, and he had found himself unable to resist kissing her. It had been gentle, tender and rather a perfect kiss, despite the slightly drunken circumstances, especially when she had wrapped her arms around his shoulders, responding so favorably to the touch of his mouth against hers.

Who knew where it might have led, but she had let out a delightfully soft, feminine sigh when they broke apart, whispering, "Professor Lupin," and he had been snapped out of his firewhiskey-induced fog, remembering precisely who the young witch in his arms was. They had never spoken of it after he had escorted her to her room that night. Since her behavior toward him never changed in the slightest, he naturally assumed she had simply forgotten it had happened at all.

He had tried to forget, too, but the memory had proven to be unshakable.

So it was that he satisfied himself with watching her from a distance. They still saw one another rather regularly, at least once a month since she had taken up brewing the wolfsbane potion for him, and he enjoyed the genial friendship that had grown between them over the years. Indeed, it had only taken him the better part of a year to get her accustomed to using his given name while they were together privately.

"She's really grown up, hasn't she?" Bill Weasley asked from where he stood a few feet away on the other side of the fireplace.

Remus looked over at him, surprised, "hello there Bill," he greeted the red-head, "I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there," as he spoke his golden eyes moved back across the room to Hermione and he nodded slowly, "yes, everyone has really grown up. Congratulations, by the way, I hear Ginny will be making you an uncle again in a few months."

Bill nodded, grinning slightly, "well, she and Harry are thrilled anyway."

They stood in silence for a while, Remus still watching everyone else, especially Hermione, while Bill sipped his drink. Fleur had already retired from the party, going up to the guest room they shared to take care of their young daughter, and Bill had little else to do but watch the others. It hadn't taken him long to realize that Remus Lupin was hardly paying attention to anyone or anything but the brightest witch to ever grace the great House of Gryffindor.

Remus excused himself politely a few minutes later, taking his empty glass and going back to the kitchen. The celebrations had begun to wind down, with most of the guests going home while close friends and family were still gathered in the cozy den of the Weasley residence. While he was refreshing his drink, he sensed Hermione enter the kitchen behind him, could smell the light jasmine that accompanied her as she came near to him. The smell of her had always been refreshingly light, sweet; and over the years he had been secretly pleased to note that she never had the scent of another man clinging to her skin.

"Good evening Remus," she intoned softly, and he smiled at the sound of his name. There was something undeniably appealing about the way she said his name, the way her voice wrapped around it, making it sound so much more intimate to him.

He turned, holding his drink, and looked her over slowly from head to toe as she leaned against the counter a few feet from him. She was dressed casually in a green knit dress that hugged her hips and thighs to her knees, with her hair tamed into lush curls that fell down her back in a beautiful, fragrant cascade.

"Hello Hermione," he said at last, looking down as he took a drink from his glass. He set his glass aside on the counter and looked at her again, asking, "have you enjoyed the celebrations?"

She nodded, smiling gently and looking at him shyly from beneath her dark eyelashes, "yes; truth be told, actually, I've been waiting to get you alone all evening."

Surprised, he saw her blush, the rose hue staining her cheeks as she corrected herself, "I mean, I'm sorry, I mean to give you this," she held out a small wrapped box, "it's a little personal."

He nodded, reaching out and taking the gift from her outstretched hand.

"Thank you," he said, holding the present in his hands he asked her, "do I open it now or later?"

"Now is fine," she answered, feeling a nervous flutter of excitement in her stomach. She'd given Remus a number of different gifts over the years, ranging from books and scrolls to runic talismans and other oddities, but nothing quite like what she had just handed him, and she hoped he would appreciate the thought behind her gift.

"Very well then," he obliged her with a friendly smile, unwrapping the box neatly and carefully. He folded the wrapping paper and set it aside on the counter before opening the small black box that had been inside. There was a silver talisman on a leather cord in the box, with the image of a man and a wolf beneath the full moon and on the back an inscription of his name surrounded by an engraving of ancient runes. When he held it in his hand, he could feel that it resonated strongly with magic, and he looked at Hermione, "what is this for?"

"I made it for you," she answered, "it's a talisman of protection and path-finding, so that you may never lose your way no matter how dark it might get."

He was speechless as he turned it over in his hand, feeling the potency of the magic it was imbued with, and touched by the amount of work she must have put into creating such a gift.  
Realizing that she was waiting for his response, he told her, "it's beautiful, Hermione."

"I hoped you would like it," she said, looking suddenly shy, "I've enchanted it to warn you of danger. And," she paused, looking away and blushing hotly, "I hope you don't mind, but I've enchanted it so that I will be alerted if your life is ever directly threatened."

Tucking the gleaming talisman into his pocket, Remus nodded, his eyes alight with amusement as he looked at the blushing witch before him, taking a step closer so that they were nearly touching. He reached out slowly and gently tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear, his fingertips trailing over the shell of her ear as he did so.

"I don't mind," he murmured softly. He couldn't resist teasing her slightly, though, and he asked in an equally soft tone, "but the war is over, do you really think something awful will happen to me now?"

"No," she shook her head, "of course not. I just – well, you spend so much time alone, and I just want to know that you're always safe."

Smiling wryly, and nodding, he assured her, "I'll wear it every day."

"Remus?" she asked softly, looking up at him.

"Yes?"

"I think we're stuck under mistletoe," she whispered, her blush spreading to the roots of her hair.

Looking up, he groaned, "and here I thought I'd successfully avoided all of it."

Fred and George had been putting up enchanted mistletoe all over the Burrow all night, but Remus thought they'd cleared off and taken their mistletoe with them. Apparently, he had underestimated them, and he found that he was quite firmly stuck in place.

"I'll just kiss you," she said quickly, taking Remus' reaction for a negative one, and she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek briefly.

Their legs remained immovable, however, and Remus sighed, looking at the young woman now standing in his arms, "I'm sorry, we're still stuck," he whispered.

She looked at him, confused, and he leaned close to her so that he could whisper in her ear, "the twins' have put up a... unique form of mistletoe this year." And, as their teacher, he had to give them top marks for ingenious spellwork, but being at the receiving end of one of their pranks did a considerable amount to dampen his enthusiasm for their particular use of their gifts.

The new and Weasley-improved form of enchanted mistletoe required a different level of intimacy contingent upon who was stuck standing beneath it. Molly and Arthur had been caught numerous times throughout the evening, and had to kiss one another rather heatedly to break loose, whereas Ginny and Ron had pecked one another on the cheek and walked away. Then there had been Ginny and Harry, which had caused her brothers to turn away in disgust, and even Bill and Fleur had gotten stuck and kissed their way loose.

"I'm sure I could find a way to break out of this," he offered, looking up at the offensive piece of plant matter hanging over their heads.

"No," Hermione shook her head, a shy smile spreading across her face, "let's just get loose before anyone else comes in here to watch."

He looked down at the witch in his arms, relishing the feel of her soft body pressed against his, her arms wrapped around his waist. If she asked him to kiss her, who was he to deny her?

"As you wish," he said quietly, tilting her chin up slightly to bring her mouth to his. Just as she had four years ago, she tasted of champagne, and he couldn't resist brushing his tongue over her lips to taste more of her.

To his surprise Hermione responded, her tongue brushing against his, her mouth returning his kiss with equal fervor. When he broke away from her after several long seconds, a soft sigh escaped through her lips, sending an immediate jolt of arousal shooting through his blood like liquid fire, and causing his pants to become uncomfortably tight. They could move again, but she did not release him at first, still wrapped in his arms and pressed intimately close against the length of his body.

"Remus," the way she sighed his name did indescribable things to him, a tight ball of arousal building in his abdomen, and he looked down at her.

"Yes?"

"Please kiss me again."

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Finished.

Like I said, just something short and sweet. ^.^ I've been really inspired to write some Remus x Hermione one-shots lately, so you'll probably see a few more in the next couple of weeks. I hope you'll all enjoy them, so please let me know what you think. For those who are interested in some more mature romance, and a longer story, please check out my longer fic _Spirit Bound, _which is now approaching completion.


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